State of Grace
by DemigoddesKat
Summary: AU.Young Society's Favorite Couple, Chuck Bass & Blair Waldorf are engaged! But getting to the altar of the Wedding of the Century might be harder they think. Especially with Brooklynite reporter Dan Humphrey fishing for anything that will ruin his former classmates' happiness. And he's not the only one. Can their brave & wild love survive? Rated M for smut mainly. Chair of course
1. Chapter 1

_**I honestly should be committed for having three in-progress stories at once, but I can't help myself. This fic is loosely inspired by the Taylor Swift song "State of Grace", hence the title. I heard the lyrics and thought it really fit everything I love about Chair. Oh, and a side note, Dan is the main antagonist in the story. So if there are any huge Dan fans, this really isn't for you. Rated M for language, some mild violence and detailed erotic scenes (duh). Happy reading.**_

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State of Grace

One

"_I'm walking fast through the traffic lights, busy streets and busy lives. And all we know is touch and go."_

* * *

_**Spotted: Queen B returning from her hot and hazy summer in the Hamptons. We hear that it was nothing for bliss for her and Bad Boy Bass. But if that's the case, why are C&B returning separately?**_

The sights and sounds of Manhattan might've seemed overbearing to some. But to Blair Waldorf, it just sounded like home. People rushing uptown, people rushing downtown, cab hailing, dogs barking, the subway rumbling underfoot, the cornucopia was music to her ears. It felt good to be home. And not just for the summer. Blair sighed, realizing that she was home _for good_. The world was officially her oyster, not that it hadn't always been. But she now had a degree in Fashion and Business from Yale, was a member of the Order of the Skull & Bones (not that she was allowed to talk about that) and was about to be groomed to take over her mother's fashion empire, Waldorf Designs.

Yes, life was good. No, life was excellent. She was the quintessential American Princess, about to be crowned. What could be better?

That was the last thought she had before her cell phone rang. She checked the ID and couldn't stop a smile from crossing her face. It was him, her King. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hey, Beautiful," he said in his deep resonant voice. The slightest sound from him sent shivers up and down her spine. There was no doubt in her mind: Charles Bartholomew Bass was made for her. "Where are you," he asked with an eagerness that made her feel all gooey inside.

"I'm almost there," she said. "I can't wait to see you. It seems like it's been _**ages**_. Seventy-five hours is really too long to be away from you. But you're the one who had to jet back."

"Bart's orders," he said briefly. "But I promise I'll make it up to you the second you get here."

"Oh, well I guess I better hurry," she said a mischievous edge entering her voice. She hung up her phone and smiled. Life had been good to her. She was born into money, glamour, and prestige. Society went where she willed it. She knew that for the rest of her life she would be a queen. Fortunately, she'd already found her King.

She'd been dating Chuck Bass since she was seventeen. But he'd been in her life for as long as she could remember. There wasn't a time when he wasn't one of her closest friends. Between the two of them, and their other closest friends, Serena van der Woodsen and Nate Archibald, there was a solid bond that had survived a lot.

They'd been a foursome all of their lives. And they wouldn't have it any other way. Carefully, almost as if it had been planned out for them, they took their places among the high school hierarchy.

Serena with her penchant for partying, bong hits and looking perfect without even trying was quickly labeled the It Girl. Girls wanted to be her, guys wanted to have her.

Nate with his Vanderbilt pedigree, fondness for lacrosse, perpetual stoner persona and eerie physical perfection was the Golden Boy. Popular, friends with everyone, envied by all, and a closet brooder.

Blair, with her calculating mind, enormous will and steely resolve established herself as the Queen Bee. Her word was law and to disregard it was social suicide. A lesson many a social climber had learned the hard way. Bow down or bow out, either way the Waldorf ruled.

And Chuck, with his striking good looks, astronomical wealth and his do whatever the fuck I please personality was the Bad Boy. He did whatever he wanted, said whatever he wanted, wore whatever he wanted, took whoever he wanted and dared you to say anything about it.

Despite their differences in personalities, the four of them could always rely on each other. Blair was positive they wouldn't have survived high school without each other.

But she didn't plan on falling in love with Chuck. That had come as quite the surprise. He'd always been there for her, and they always united in a scheme or a game or if they needed to destroy someone. Back then, she didn't know her one and only was right beside her. Nate and Serena, the Golden Couple, had figured it out early: freshman year jumped into bed and hadn't come up for air since.

It had taken her and Chuck a little longer. She smiled, reminiscing about the night she'd given herself to Chuck Bass. But her reverie was interrupted, because she had arrived.

The Hotel Empire, Chuck's training ground. Or as some referred to it, his playground. The Empire had been a high school graduation present from Bart. It was then that everyone realized that Chuck was being groomed, groomed to take over Bass Industries. Some people, Chuck included, thought Bart was out of his mind.

After all, responsibility had never been Chuck's forte. But Bart had witnessed a change in his son, it was subtle at first, but it started becoming more and more noticeable. He'd fallen in love. And that love had taught him to think of others before himself, to be accountable for his actions.

But he still wanted Chuck to start small. Bart was in no hurry to retire and Chuck still had lots to learn. But Chuck had come to Bart with an investment idea, a burlesque club, but an investment idea nonetheless. It took some convincing but Bart finally agreed that it was perfect starting point for his heir apparent. And thus the era of Victrola had begun. Chuck owed that club a lot, but that was another story.

As Blair's Manolos clicked on the shiny floors of the lobby, all the workers stopped and greeted her with a smile. Blair smiled; imagining that this was how Jackie O must've felt like when waltzing through the White House. Everyone knew how to treat the Boss's girl, and if they didn't, well they were out the door.

She took the private elevator up to his suite. She wondered why Bart had called Chuck home early. They had just graduated from Yale, and had spent the summer in the Hamptons. It was bad enough that Nate and Serena had left a week earlier, so for the last three days it had just been Blair all by her lonesome.

Three days without Chuck, she was sure that fell under the category of cruel and unusual. All she wanted to do was be in his arms, feel his lips on hers and just lose herself in everything that was Chuck Bass.

The three and a half minute ride to the top floor seemed to drag on for three and half hours, but finally the elevator dinged to a halt. The doors opened and Blair sighed contentedly, happy to be home, even though she technically didn't live there.

"Bass," she called out as the bellhop pulled her bags off the trolley.

"You might want to be more specific," a familiar and none too pleasant voice called out. Blair turned to see Jack Bass, Chuck's uncle, coming out of the kitchen.

"Jack? What are you doing here?" Blair asked, folding her arms.

"Leaving," Chuck said in an icy tone, as he came up behind Jack. "Jack was just leaving."

Jack rolled his eyes. "We'll defer this 'til later. I'll let you two lovebirds catch up. Southampton looks good on you, Waldorf," he whispered as he brushed past her and out the elevator doors.

"What the hell was that about?" she said once the elevator had gone down. Chuck just shook his head in response.

"The usual Jack Bass bullshit," he murmured. His face slowly turned upwards into a smile as it dawned on him: Blair was home. "You're home," he voiced as he strode towards her, beyond eager to touch her.

He pulled her into his arms and their lips melded into each other without a word. Blair's hands wrapped around his neck, pulling them even closer to each other. She greedily inhaled his aroma, that special scent of pine and musk, cigars and scotch, well-oiled leather and custom-made shirts that was distinctly him.

Meanwhile, Chuck's hands were wasting no time getting reacquainted with every curve and contour of her body. He groped through her trench coat and he didn't think he'd ever hated a garment of clothing so much.

Most reluctantly, Blair pulled away, but only because her lungs demanded it. "Well, hello to you too, Bass," she said huskily as her breathing slowed. He looked at her, drinking in the sight of her beautiful face. Her huge brown eyes glittering with equal parts happiness and lust, and those lips which were now swollen and bruised and looked thoroughly kissed.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, soft and tenderly. He pulled away and smiled at her. "Welcome home."

"It feels so good to be back. And with you. God, I missed you. It's been way, way too long." They kissed again, unable to stop touching each other even for a second.

"Do you wanna order some food?" Chuck asked in between kisses. Blair could tell that he was only asking out of politeness. She knew that all he really wanted to do was cart her off to his bedroom, and ravish her until she couldn't walk.

And if she didn't know it already, the proof was in hardening arousal, pressing against her thigh and making her somewhat weak in the knees. But she suddenly felt mischievous. She flashed him an all too Blair-esque smile. "Yeah," she said. "I'm feeling rather famished."

Her eyes danced with amusement as his eyes widened at first in disbelief and suddenly in understanding. He knew exactly what she was doing. She pulled herself out of his arms.

"I'll make you a drink," he said, playing along and sauntered off to the bar. God, she could be such a tease when she wanted to be. He downed a glass of scotch before pouring her a glass of champagne, '95 Dom of course. He knew she wanted to play. Three days apart and she wanted to tease him mercilessly. Well, two could play that game. He'd find a way to turn the tables before the night was over.

He came carting another glass of single malt for himself and her champagne. He realized he was going to need it, his mouth went dry at the sight of her. She'd shed her grey Escada trench coat and she had just put the phone down. "Just ordered the food," she said with a knowing look. She could feel Chuck's eyes devouring her.

She was wearing a dark purple Herve Lager minidress. It gripped her like a vise, showing all her curves in the best possible light. Not to mention it was one-shouldered, and with her hair pinned up, the nape of her neck was exposed and to Chuck, it looked liked it was begging to be kissed.

In short, it was a dress to tempt, a dress to allure and then to be ripped off at the height of frustration and desire. Chuck's trousers tightened and his mouth was drier than the Sahara. _Damn her,_ he thought. _But I can't say she doesn't know what she's doing._

He approached her, and she was all too satisfied at the look of discomfort on his face. She smiled her infamous doe-eyed innocent smile, like she didn't have a clue the effect she was having on him. Instinctually, he reached for her, forgetting he had two glasses in his hands. She reached for the champagne glass, with the smallest of smirks on her face.

She lifted her glass and proposed a toast. "To us." Their glasses clinked and while Chuck downed his scotch in a single swallow, Blair sipped her champagne slowly, tortuously. Chuck never thought he'd be jealous of a glass, but the glass was touching Blair and he wasn't.

They were standing awfully close and Chuck used his free hand to wrap her arm around his waist. He pulled her flush against him. "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Blair's breath caught at the feel of his hot breath on her neck. "Tell me," she begged, her voice as strained as his own. He planted a kiss on her neck, sending her pulse racing and a surge of heat to her center. The champagne glass slipped from her hand, crashing onto the floor when his fingers started making their way up her stocking-encased legs.

She always wore thigh-highs, for convenience. He wouldn't have to bother pulling them down her legs. Another reason they were perfect for each other, the only person in the world that was insatiable as him was her

"Do you remember that night in Monaco, when I took you on the pool table?" he whispered as he continued kissing down her neck. His hands eased ever so slowly towards her pulsing heat. She was getting wetter by the second, aching for his touch.

And just as his fingertips reached the bottom of her lace-covered center, the elevator dinged, announcing the room service.

The two sprung apart, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, panting breaths and flashed looks of supreme aggravation towards the waiter who was only doing his job. The unassuming waiter had no idea what he'd just walked into. "Mr. Bass, Ms. Waldorf, your food," he said with his friendly smile.

Chuck was so eager to get him out of the room he didn't even realize he'd tipped him a $500 bill.

The elevators door shut, and finally, they were alone. Blair had been planning on teasing Chuck for as long as possible, but her desire had gotten the better of her. She yanked him to her by his custom made Turnbull & Asser lavender tie and kissed him greedily. Her need to tease him had gone away almost as quickly as it had come. Her lips devoured his hungrily; she hiked her legs around his waist, feeling his entrapped erection against her pulsing heat. She pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, longing for the feel of his bare skin.

He backed her into a wall, his hands pushing her dress up inch by inch when…her cell phone rang. Both were immediately determined to ignore it. But Blair realized it was her mother's ringtone. She groaned as she pulled her lips away from Chuck. "It's my mom. If I don't answer, she'll have Dorota send out an A.P.B."

Chuck with an irritated sigh let her go. He wanted her to himself and he wanted her hours ago. She pulled her cell phone out of her clutch which was on the couch. "Mom? Yeah, I just got in. No, I'm at the Empire. Yes, with Charles. Why else would I be here?"

But suddenly a light clicked on in Chuck's head. The perfect way to get her back for torturing him earlier.

Blair leaned against the back of the couch, listening to her mother and trying to think of a way to get her off the phone as quickly as possible. She was half-listening to her mother who was ranting about some drama at the atelier, that she hardly noticed Chuck crouching on his knees in front of her. Her mind, hazy with growing sexual frustration barely felt Chuck pick up her legs and pull them onto his shoulders.

It wasn't until he ripped off her lacy thong with his teeth that she started and yelped. "What are you…?" But the sentence died on her lips as when his hot tongue met her clit. "No, Mother, I'm here," she said her voice shaky. She bit her lips to keep from moaning as Chuck continued to pleasure her into oblivion. His tongue laved over her wet, velvety folds with expert precision. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to make her lose control.

She reached for his head in an attempt to get him to stop, but that only drove him in deeper, and she gasped silently, wrapping her legs around his neck and fisting his hair.

"Blair, darling, are you listening?" asked Eleanor as Blair struggled to keep the phone up to her ear.

"Of course, Mother," she said, trying to sound normal. Blair knew she was about to lose it, her breath was coming in short, hot pants. All it took was Chuck thumbing her clit to send her over the edge. She chomped down on her lips to keep from crying out his name and he greedily lapped up her juices as she came.

"Blair, are you still there?" asked a completely oblivious Eleanor.

"Mom, let me call you back." The phone dropped to parts unknown and Chuck came up for air, with his signature smirk on his face. "You Basstard," she hissed. "My mother nearly heard…"

"Nearly heard you being pleasured until you couldn't take it anymore," he rose up with a smirk, ran his hand through his hair, and wrapped his arms around her. He smirked again. "Eleanor knows you're a big girl."

Blair was about to protest when Chuck stopped her with a kiss. "And I'm through talking for a while," he whispered in her ear.

Before Blair could respond, Chuck had her pinned against the nearest wall, his hands hiking up her dress, her legs wrapping around his waist. In this position, she found herself completely at his mercy, save for her arms which she eagerly wrapped around his neck. She could feel how hard he was, just like he could feel how wet and ready she was.

Her hands dropped from her his neck to his belt buckle which she had undid in a matter of seconds. She freed him of his pants and boxers, his hardness springing free, raging and throbbing.

"Three days really is too long," she whispered as she felt him position himself to enter here.

"Well, if you thought that was long," he said, just letting the head of his member tease the opening of her folds. "You have no idea what you're in for."

"Bass," Blair hissed her voice shaky with need. "Take me now."

He grinned and finally entered her. "With pleasure."

She half-gasped, half-screamed when his manhood parted and stretched her folds to the hilt. Until there was nothing between them but each other.

Her back arched off the wall, pulling them closer together and he groaned at the sensation of his hardness being clenched and squeezed by her tight, nearly resistant flesh. "You're so tight," he moaned.

"Because you're so big." He drew back and plunged in again with one long, slow stroke after another, kneading her breasts as her eyes rolled back from the waves of pleasure each stroke brought. Her legs tightened around him as she felt a surge of heat and energy building up in her.

The friction of his hands through the fabric of her dress on her breasts tingled right through her. "Fuck," she gasped as she squeezed them harder, rougher. His mouth covered hers in an insistent, bruising kiss.

The way her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and the way her breaths were getting shorter and shorter, he knew she was close. The hot surge of energy was growing and growing, getting ready to explode. He broke the kiss to plant a trail of hot kisses down her neck and collarbone. He started thrusting upward, finding her 'G' spot with no difficulty and that was all it took to set her over the edge.

She saw blinding white; felt the energy burst through her as she screamed his name. She clenched around him so tightly that it made him explode, filling her cunt with hot seed, making her shutter with another, smaller orgasm as they came down from their high.

They slumped to the floor, still joined and gasping for air. Their heart slowly stopped racing and their lips met in a soft, loving kiss.

Blair pulled her lips away, her lungs still not recovered. "Do. That. Again."

Chuck couldn't help but grin at her as he felt himself harden inside her. "Oh," she moaned breathily, feeling him internally stretch her.

"Believe me, I plan to," Chuck said, before pulling her under him, and showing her exactly what he meant.

*XOXO*

Hours later, they had somehow made it off of the floor and into the bedroom, a bedroom they hadn't used in nearly three months so they spent plenty of time getting reacquainted.

They laid there, wrapped in imported satin sheets and each other, Blair's hair splayed over Chuck's bare chest, his chest hair gently scraping against her bare skin, causing tingles down her spine. He stroked her ear with his palm, quite content to never leave.

"Hey," Blair said softly, suddenly thoughtful. "You never told me why Bart wanted you to come home early."

"Averted crisis," Chuck explained. "The Village loft project is giving him hell. The Bohos don't want the WASPs gentrifying their neighborhood. They've had like six protests. Of course, everyone has their price. It's what he gets for building below 57th."

"He stressed out?"

"No more than usual. Just Bart being…"

"Bart," Blair concluded as she smiled up at Chuck.

She was happy that their relationship had improved so much. God knew it hadn't been easy. They were both, by nature, emotionally distant. And their relationship had started with more than its fair share of strain. It had taken seventeen years, but the change had finally been brought about. "And Jack?" she asked. "What was that all about?"

Chuck sighed. "I swear he's not happy unless he's starting some shit. He says that that the new hotel my father's opening in Italy is on the site of some historic battle and that once again Bart Bass is not respecting cultural significance."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Well, Bart always says there's a reason he keeps Jack on the other side of the world. You think he'd be happy running Bass Australia."

Chuck planted a kiss on her forehead and stroked her chin. "You should know by now, Basses always want more." He flashed a wicked, wolfish grin before capturing her lips with his own.

"I love you," she told him. She realized she hadn't said since she'd gotten back.

"I love you too," he told her. "More than anything." He held her gaze for a long moment, like there was something he wanted to say, but wasn't going to.

"What is it?" she prodded in usual Blair fashion. If there was one thing she hated, it was being out of the loop. She hated secrets.

He just smiled at her. "It's nothing." The look on her face told her she didn't believe him for an instant, but he insisted that it was nothing.

It was, in fact, _**something**_ actually, but he couldn't tell her that. The Village loft project had been giving Bart hell, and there had been several protests, but that wasn't the reason Bart called Chuck back. In fact, Bart hadn't called Chuck back early at all.

The reason he'd came back early had nothing to do with Bart or Bass Industries, it was much more romantic in nature…

_*Two Days Earlier*_

Chuck had stepped out of his limo, a man on a mission. It had been less than two hours earlier, he'd left Blair in a still warm bed. He had most reluctantly pulled himself away from her. It hadn't been easy to leave her, especially when she was undressed and giving him her infamous come-hither look.

Still, this had been a trip of necessity. One he could not take lightly. He'd told Arthur to be on standby, as he would be in and out for the majority of the day. He'd sauntered into the Hotel Empire like he owned the place, which of course, he did.

As soon as his custom Italian leather shoes stepped on the hand-polished tile floor, everyone turned to greet him. Almost everyone had nodded with a curt "Mr. Bass." Whenever he walked through the halls, he commanded respect. He did, after all, sign the paychecks around there.

Buckman had been waiting at the front desk as ordered. "Mr. Charles," the old manservant said with a smile. "Buckman," Chuck returned. "Is everything in order?"

"Practically, sir. Mr. Chuck and Miss Serena are waiting in your suite."

"Did it arrive?"

"No, but the manager said it would be here before 2:30."

"See that it is. Have it sent up to my suite immediately. Did Givenchy finish the resizing?"

"An hour ago, sir. It's in your suite."

"Excellent. The Plaza?"

"Everything is all set. They are arranging the Terrace Room as we speak."

"Wonderful. Thank you, Buckman." Chuck turned to leave and then stopped. "Oh, any messages?"

"There's one from your father. He requests you meet him for drinks at the club tonight around eight. And one from Eleanor Waldorf, the jet is flying her and company in around six."

"Have a car sent for them."

"Right away, sir."

"Thank you as always, Buckman."

Chuck had got on his private elevator, feeling those goddamn butterflies again. He didn't expect to be this nervous. He'd known he was going to do this for a while now. Still, with it now looming over his head, there was that fluttering in his stomach, that all too familiar woozy feeling he had long associated with brown eyes, pearls and peonies.

He wanted everything to be perfect, everything had to be perfect. Everything would be perfect. He was going to make sure of it. After all, he was Chuck Bass.

The elevators doors had opened into his suite to reveal his two closest friends making out on his couch. He'd cleared his throat as loudly as he could. Nate and Serena had sprung apart, not looking the slightest bit shamed. Upper East Siders were low on the shame.

"Really, you two?" Chuck had asked with a slight shake of his head.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chuck. I've caught you and Blair doing much worse."

"That's why you knock before you enter a room, sis," Chuck said with a smile. He hadn't seen his stepsister in over a week. "How's Bart & Lil?"

"Bart & Lil," Serena responded. "Getting ready for their annual End of Summer party at the Palace. Driving Eric crazy."

"I'll take him to Gilt later, get him out of there."

Serena had smiled. As far as stepfamilies went, hers was pretty all right. Her mother had married Bart Bass when she was nine. It had been especially good for her little brother, Eric. Eric was naturally introverted, but the unabashedly wild Chuck had gotten him to come out of his shell more and more.

"So, Chuck, what was so urgent that the two of us had to come here?" Nate had asked. They had both been summoned by a cryptic, yet startling message that brooked no refusal. "I mean, is everything all right? You all right?"

Chuck had shrugged. "Well Nathaniel, I hardly know at the moment. The reason I asked you both here is…"

They'd been interrupted by the elevator. A valet had stepped through along with a tall, dark haired man in a custom-tailored dark blue suit. He had a silver briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. Serena had recognized him as Bradley Price, the manager of Harry Winston down on Fifth Avenue.

Nate and Serena had looked back into the elevator and saw two burly men in dark black suits, with earpieces standing at attention. Clearly, they were security. Nate had flashed Serena a look that asked _what the hell is going on._

"Mr. Bass," Mr. Price said in a tone that was all business. "Your package." Mr. Price pulled out a small silver key from his pocket and released the cuff from his wrist. He then handed it to Chuck, who handed him a check.

"A pleasure doing business with you," Mr. Price had said. "And I believe you will be most pleased. That piece is my coup de grace. There can be none to rival it. It's _c'est magnifique_, made for a queen. I've never beheld such a flawless stone."

By this time, Nate and Serena had begun to pick up that Bradley Price wasn't there to deliver another pair of custom cufflinks. After all, the snobbish, nouveau riche manager didn't even attend clients who were buying anything less than fifty grand.

Mr. Price had pocketed the check. "A glorious day to you, Mr. Bass," he'd said with his too wide smile. "And you as well, Mr. Archibald, Ms. van der Woodsen. Mr. Archibald, tell your mother that the earrings I'm designing for her are simply glorious. Good day to you all."

Mr. Price had straightened his perfectly straight Windsor-knotted tie, and turned crisply back towards the elevator, the valet and his security team waiting most patiently.

Once the three had been alone, Serena had pounced. "Ok, what's going on? When I talked to Blair, she said Bart had called you back early on business."

Chuck had shaken his head. "That's just what I told her," he'd said as he placed the silver briefcase on the coffee table. That's when they'd noticed that it had a biometric lock, one that only opened with a fingerprint scan.

"Chuck, what the hell do you have that has to be delivered in a titanium-reinforced bulletproof, biometrically locked briefcase?" a beyond bemused Nate had asked in the same tone he often asked Chuck if he wanted a beer.

Chuck had just smiled ambiguously and placed his thumb on the scan. A series of clicks announced that the briefcase was unlocked. Chuck had pulled out a telltale black velvet box and placed it on the table. He'd taken the briefcase off the table and put it aside. He'd opened the box and a light crossed his face for a second. He smiled, trying to picture her face. He'd turned the box forward to reveal to Nate and Serena the most beautiful, the most flawless diamond ring they'd ever beheld.

"This is why I asked you both here today," he'd explained. "In two days, Blair's coming home. And the day after that, I'm going to propose."

Serena's face had gone from surprised to delighted in a manner of seconds. Before Chuck had known it, she'd thrown her arms around his neck. "Ohmigod! Ohmigod!" she'd said over and over again.

When she'd calmed down, she'd taken the box from his hand. "Wow, it's beautiful. What is it, six carats?"

"Eight," Chuck had corrected her. "Eight flawless, colorless, cushion-cut carats set in pure platinum. I personally picked the stone it was carved from. A twenty carat masterpiece discovered in Morocco. I'm having the remaining 12 carats turned into matching earrings."

"Oh, my God, B's going to love it! She's going to freak. How long have you been planning this?" Everyone knew that Serena van der Woodsen was easily excited, not to mention a hopeless romantic so Chuck had figured she'd be absolutely thrilled.

Nate, who had been no less excited, but much quieter, just smiled. "Wow," he said as he stood up to get a closer look at the ring. "How long have you been planning this?"

Chuck shrugged. "I knew I wanted to propose after graduation. But I just started planning the whole thing about a month ago. Remember when I had to fly to Monaco suddenly? Well I didn't actually go. I went to see the Waldorf-Rose clan. Get their permission. They're flying in tonight."

Serena squealed with delight, she was so happy, one might've thought it was her about to get married. "Ok, so what do you need us to do? We are at your full service. I just can't wait to see that look on Blair's face."

The smile Chuck gave his sister said that he couldn't wait either.

"Well, there's a lot to do," he said. "Um, so basically when she gets here, I'm going to tell her that I've planned a special night for our first night back in the city. Tell her to meet me at the Plaza. I've booked the Terrace Room for this. What I really need you guys to do is to get everyone there. All of our friends and family. I've already got a reporter from the _Times _Society Page coming. And most importantly, not breathe a word to Blair."

Serena and Nate had given their word they their lips were sealed. But Serena had been just bursting with excitement, she could hardly contain her joy. "She's going to be so happy," she had kept saying. "She's going to be so happy." Chuck certainly hoped she was right.

Five hours later, Chuck had been sitting at the club, waiting for his father to arrive. Bart had strolled in, uncharacteristically early, with a small smile on his face. "Son, good to see you," he'd said pulling Chuck in for the slightest of embraces.

Everyone knew that Basses weren't big on public displays of affection, especially not with each other.

Chuck had ordered his second scotch and Bart ordered his first. "So, Father, what did you want to talk about? Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing more than usual. How is Blair?"

"She's fine, catching up with Serena. How's Lily?"

"Very well, thank you. She's getting ready for your party at the Plaza. So it's all settled then? You're really going to ask her?"

"Are you surprised?"

"Yes and no. I'm surprised that you're doing it so soon after graduation. But am I surprised you're asking Blair Waldorf to marry you? About as surprised as I was that the sun came up this morning. Anyone who looks at the two of you can see you're absolutely…_**smitten**_."

Chuck had shrugged, not wanting to believe it was _**that **_obvious. Then again, he didn't care. He was Chuck Bass. "Well, I'm going to ask her. The day after tomorrow, everything's in motion. No going back."

Bart smiled. "I'm proud of you, son."

"Dad, you don't have to…"

"No, I mean it. You've done very well these last few years. Graduating from Yale, the Empire is doing really well, Victrola is one of the best night spots in town. And now, marriage. If someone had told me all this would happen when you were sixteen, well I would've laughed."

"So would I," Chuck commented. He wasn't ashamed of who he'd been, underage boozer and womanizer with a brooding spirit. But that was past. Once he had Blair, there was simply no one else.

Bart looked fondly at his son. "Your mother would be proud of you, of who you've become. I just wish she was here."

Chuck nodded. "So do I."

"Well, let's not lament over that. This is a time for celebration. Oh, and once the festivities are over, we have to have a serious conversation. Something alarming that Jack brought to my attention."

"Do we have anything to worry about?"

"Not yet."

_*Present Day*_

Blair's manicured hand slammed down on the alarm clock. Beauty rest was essential to Waldorf women, especially those who had very long, long nights. Blair wanted to stay in bed, holding on to the memory of the night before, the way his hands had roamed over her body, the way his teeth had grazed her flesh. She could still feel his warmth encircling her.

But staying in bed wasn't an option, it seemed. Her phone buzzed with life, making her remember that she things to do. She looked at her screen and realized it was just a Gossip Girl blast: _**Spotted: S at Bendel's picking out a gown. But since when does S go shopping without B? And for what does she need black tie? Shouldn't someone tell Ms. van der Woodsen that the fall season hasn't even begun?**_

Serena? Shopping? For what? It left nothing but questions in Blair's mind. They didn't have anything coming up, except for the van der Bass annual End of Summer Party and that wasn't for two weeks and they already had their dresses for that.

She looked over at the empty space besides her. If she laid her head there, she could get a faint whiff of his cologne. Where had he gone, she bemoaned to herself. She knew he had a hotel to run and things to do and people to see. Still, she wouldn't have minded him waking her up.

There was a note stuck under an empty shot glass on her bedside table: **B, I had to run. Meeting with staff. Meet you for lunch. XXX.-C.**

That was when she noticed the time, it was already 11:45. She hadn't meant to sleep that late. But she certainly needed to regain her strength. Where Chuck got all the energy, she didn't know. But if she was going to meet him for lunch, she was going to have to make herself presentable.

She almost didn't want to shower, didn't want to wash away his scent from her body. Sometimes she hated how crazy she was about him, how much power he had over her. He saw right through her, straight to her core. He could see pass the cool exterior and into the raging fire below. He knew how insecure she could be, he know how she was constantly striving for perfection. Secretly, he thought it was unnecessary. To him, she was already perfect. It was aggravating to be with someone you couldn't fool. Yet, at the same time, it was the easiest thing in the world. With Chuck, she could be vulnerable. She could have her guard up, let her hair down and let loose. But to him and to him only.

With everyone else, she had to be poised, refined, regal with a steely resolve that no one could undermine. She had to be strong, powerful and firm. Not that it was all an act, but the only person Blair trusted enough to be uninhibited around was him.

Not that it didn't go both ways, God knew she was the only woman who was going to challenge him, never concede to him, put up with all his brooding and look good doing it. Chuck wasn't a picnic, far from it. But Blair saw past the soulless, nonchalant front he'd perfected his whole life. She knew just how deeply he could feel.

These were the thoughts filling her head as she got ready for their late lunch. She had just finished putting on a dark green D&G sheath dress when the elevators dinged, announcing his arrival.

"Blair," he said stepping into the bedroom. "Sorry, I took off this morning." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. He pushed her hair to one side and kissed the newly exposed nape of her neck. "God, you smell fantastic."

Blair melted back into him, head against his shoulder as his hands surveyed her body, lips kissing down her neck to the top of her shoulder where his teeth nipped at her skin. He was fighting every urge to bend her over and take her from behind. And as much as he wanted her, he knew this particular escapade was going to have to be deferred.

She turned her head and lifting his head from her shoulder to his lips, she wrapped him in a searing kiss. Chuck felt himself hardening and knew that he had to stop this train before it left the station. He mustered every ounce of will power he had and pulled away. "We should slow down."

Blair shot him the most incredulous look. "We should?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief and barely restrained lust.

He nodded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. "If we start now, we're not going to stop, for a while. And I'm on a time crunch."

She just shook her head, resigned. "You're insatiable, Bass."

"You're addictive, Waldorf." He kissed her lightly. "And I have a surprise for you."

Blair's lust could only be quelled by her curiosity. She loved surprises, especially from Chuck, usually because they came in Tiffany's boxes.

He walked over to the closet and pulled out a white box that could only be holding some kind of clothing. Blair loved where this was going. The white box had the word Givenchy inscribed on it. She loved it even more. Her hands ached to know what was inside. Chuck always gave the best presents.

He handed it to her and watched her all too eager face light up as she quickly undid the silk bow and lifted the box top. Her mouth dropped in wonderstruck awe. "Oh," was all she said. She couldn't believe it. "It looks like the dress from _Sabrina_. You had this made?"

Chuck shook his head. "No, it's the actual dress. I had Givenchy resize it, especially for you." Blair didn't know if she could find the words to express. The dress was beautiful: white, strapless, adorned with the most gorgeous pattern of black lace. Not to mention, it was the dress that had turned Audrey Hepburn into a style icon.

Blair pulled it completely out of the box, just to look at it. The fact that it was 50 years old didn't matter. It was probably the most touching, the most thoughtful gift anyone had gotten her. She placed it ever so carefully on the bed and leaped into Chuck's arms.

She kissed him as hard as she could. "Thank you." Another kiss. "Thank you." Kiss again. "Thank you." Kiss the third. With the fourth, she didn't pull away just held his lips for a long moment. "I love it," she told him when they broke apart.

He smiled. "Good. I was hoping you'd wear it tonight."

A shadow of confusion crossed her face. "Tonight? Are we doing something tonight?"

"That's the second part of the surprise," he told her. "I've got something special planned for tonight."

"Well, why tonight?"

"Why not? Will you do me the honor of meeting me at the Plaza tonight at 7:30, in the Terrace Room?"

"First the dress, then the Plaza? What's going on, Bass?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes. But you can't expect me to not want to know…" He silenced her with a kiss.

"The only way to find out is to be there. The limo will pick you up at 7:00." He kissed her again. "Now I've got a slew of meetings that I can't be late for. So, I'll see you tonight?" He kissed her one last time, and he took his leave.

As soon as the elevators doors had shut, Blair had whipped out her cell phone and was dialing Nate's number. It went straight to voicemail. "Archibald, what's the deal with this surprise of Chuck's? I know you know. Call me back."

Hours later, Blair sat in the back of the limo, flummoxed as could be. Nate never called her back, which was not like him. Serena was nowhere to be found either. Their phones were off, they weren't at home. Gossip Girl hadn't even spotted them all day. And that never happened.

She'd been sitting in suspense for hours, spinning her wheels trying to figure out what the hell is going on. By now, she knew something was going on. And she figured she was the last to know, a position she hated to be in. What was Chuck up to? What could he possibly be planning? Besides, how was he going to top the present he'd just given her? She looked down at the dress she was wearing and beamed. It was too surreal.

She couldn't stay mad at him for keeping in the dark, not when he'd given her the best present in the world. But clearly, there was tons of duplicity going on. She couldn't reach Nate, she couldn't reach Serena, even her mother wasn't answering her phone, but she was sure that was unrelated. She'd gone by the van der Bass apartment to try to squeeze information out of Lily.

But Lily wasn't home, and the housekeepers didn't know where she was. Blair knew that was a bald face lie. This was the Upper East Side, the housekeepers knew _EVERYTHING._

Arthur too was in on it. He'd been cordial as always, but Blair started firing questions at him and he turned to stone. She should've expected as much. Arthur knew things about her she would gladly pay to have kept quiet. But he, like all members of the help, knew better than to ask questions.

When they arrived at the Plaza, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The hotel was glittering and opulent as usual. Blair lifted her skirts in a very ladylike fashion. She didn't want anything to ruin her dress. She should've enlisted some handmaidens to help with it. But she had been too busy scheming to know what was waiting for her on the other side of the door of the Terrace Room.

Blair knew the room well, she'd been there for many a grand party throughout her life. Her and her Nana Waldorf used to meet every Tuesday morning for tea. Still, the moment she walked in, she sensed something was different, but she didn't know what. The pristine chandeliers caught the light like they had been doing for over 100 years. The pale gold color palette made one want to cry the way it had been doing for over 100 years. And at the very back of the room, dressed in a custom, but classic Valentino tux was Charles Bass.

He held out his hand for her to join him and she approached slowly, all of sudden feeling nervous. She walked pass the terraces, and for a moment, she thought she heard something, something like someone holding their breath, but she pushed that thought aside.

She took his hand and they stood their for a few moments, just savoring the sight of each you, her eyes filled with a thousand questions, his with a thousand nerves. "You look lovely," he told her. He kissed her cheek so softly it was like a cloud had just touched her.

"Chuck," she said, her curiosity getting the best of her. "What's going on?"

He looked at her, then looked away, then took a deep breath as he met her eyes again. "You know I love you, right?" he asked, his eyes pouring into hers.

"Of course."

"Good. Because I do. I love you more than anything. And every time I look at you, every time we're together, nothing else matters. Nothing can wrong as long as we're together. And I feel like that, if, if we're together, nothing ever will be really wrong. How could it be when I have you?"

He paused and Blair could feel her heart pounding. _Is he going to…No, he can't be, can he?_ Her brain was going a million miles a minute.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We're Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. And that's the way I want it to be now and always. Life with you is the most exciting thing, it could never be boring or redundant. So I guess I better get to the point here." He dropped to one knee and Blair felt her breath catch. "So Blair Cornelia Waldorf, four words, fourteen letters: will you marry me?" He held up the most magnificent, the most glorious diamond ring she'd ever seen.

Blair could feel the tears welling up in her eyes; she fought to find her voice. She was so stunned she couldn't speak. But then she looked into Chuck's hopeful eyes and…

"Yes. Yes! A hundred times, yes!" It one swift motion, he was on his feet, placing the ring on her finger and kissing her breathless.

Her hands wrapped around his neck, perfectly content to never let this moment end. But when they finally pulled away, he gently cupped her face and wiped the tears from her eyes. And that was when the applause started.

Blair turned, startled, to see practically everyone she ever knew. Her parents, all four of them, Bart and Lily, Serena and Nate, even her high school minions, not to mention Mark Lyle, _New York Times _Society Reporter had came out from their hidden perches.

On cue, a waiter appeared with two glasses of champagne for the happy couple. "To Blair and Chuck," Serena called out, unable to contain her glee.

"To Blair and Chuck," everyone chimed in.

"I can't believe it," Blair said, still not fully recovered from the shock. "I can't believe it." Tears filled her eyes again and she looked at her mother, who was almost as teary-eyed as herself.

And then the congratulations started pouring in. Everyone was hugging, crying, laughing. It was really the perfect moment. And it wasn't long before Gossip Girl was spreading the news all abroad: _**This just in Upper East Siders, C has popped the question to our very own B. Guess it was only natural after he popped her cherry. And with the Houses of Bass and Waldorf uniting, it's bound to be the Wedding of the Century. And you know who loves weddings? Gossip Girl. You know you love me. XOXO.-Gossip Girl.**_

Blair felt like she was on Cloud 99, and that nothing could take away her happiness.

Little did she know, plenty of people would soon try to.

* * *

**_What do you think? Worth continuing? R&R please. I hope to update once a month. But No Promises._**


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for all the kind words and reviews. Here's the next chapter. Please let me know what you think. It fuels me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my laptop. This is a mere homage to the characters created by their respective creators. All quotes, unless otherwise indicated, taken from the song that inspired the title.

* * *

Two

"_There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved."-George Sand_

* * *

Chuck Bass had never been a fairytale kind of guy. His father had never read them to him while he was little. Neither had the harem of au pairs and nannies that had assisted in his rearing. He had always thought their sole purpose was to make impressionable children believe in unrealistic ideals about love, family and happily ever afters.

Still, for the first time in his life, he might've been a believer. He didn't know that he could be so happy, didn't know that so much happiness could exist at one time, in one person, in himself.

But as he watched his girlfriend, pardon, his _fiancée_'s smile light up her beautiful face, he figured that this is what the Brothers Grimm had in mind when they dreamed up happily ever after. She was staring up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears of joy as they danced around the room.

"I love you," she told him. Her hand stroked his face. "I love you so much."

He took her hand in his and lovingly kissed her knuckles. "I know. I love you too, more than anything."

Blair almost wanted someone to pinch her. It was all so unreal. The dance ended and they left each other's company to mingle with their friends.

Serena wrapped Blair in a huge hug. "Congratulations, B! I'm so happy for you."

Blair smiled gleefully. "I know. Can you die of happiness?"

"If you can, I better get an ambulance on standby. B, seriously, this is so fantastic."

"I know. But did you know about this, S? I find it hard to believe that Chuck didn't tell anybody."

"He just told me and Nate yesterday, he was very sly about it, honestly. I think the only person that knew was Bart. I can't wait to start planning!"

"Hey, maybe you and Natie will be next. You guys have been dating forever."

Serena smiled wistfully and then shook her head. "I don't know, maybe. But tonight is all about you and Chuck."

Blair smiled. "I just can't believe it. I mean, I knew he was going to ask me one day. I just didn't think it would be so soon and it's just so perfect." Blair felt her eyes welling up again.

She knew she'd been born into a charmed life, but now here she was, engaged to the love of her life. At that moment it was decided: she had the best life ever.

Meanwhile, her beloved was being congratulated by his father and his uncle.

Jack with a good-natured grin on his face, clapped Chuck on the back. "Nice work, nephew of mine, but you sure you know what you're getting into?"

"Well, we can't all be whores like you," Chuck told him with a grin. "Besides, I love her."

Bart, the eternal stoic, actually seemed glad. "Lily is just thrilled. She can't wait to start planning. I think she already has it envisioned in her head."

"I'm sure Blair does too," Chuck said as he met her eyes across the room. She nodded to the dance floor. "Father, Jack, if you'll excuse me."

The pair watched him go, happy as could be and wholly unaware of the anxiety his father and uncle felt.

"When are you going to tell him?" Jack asked. "Kid needs to know. We all have to be prepared."

"I'll let him have his night," Bart said as took another sip of brandy. "Besides, I'm not sure if the situation warrants any special action."

Jack rolled his eyes. "It could destroy Bass Industries. Does he even know about the threa—?"

Bart shook his firmly. "No, I haven't wanted to worry him with that. He did just graduate from college. And I don't think it's going to destroy us."

Jack scoffed. "I've learned never to put much faith in your _**thoughts**_,big brother of mine."

"Your mistake, Jackson," Bart said decidedly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to dance with my wife.

Jack watched his brother and nephew, dancing the night away, as if they didn't have a care in the world. Nothing and nobody knocked the Basses off their hand-polished, marble pedestals. At least, that's how it worked in the world of firstborn sons. The pedestals of the younger born were much more wobbly.

It was the eternal struggle, from Cain and Abel to Mufasa and Scar. Jack was only in town for a few more days, and then he had to get back to Bass Australia. God, he was sick of Australia. Every time he flew to New York, he missed it more and more.

He and his brother were just kids from Queens, who spent their nights dreaming about how the other half lived. But Bart, Bart had turned it all around. He'd taken a loan and built an empire. An empire his newly engaged son would soon be taking over. And Jack, well Jack was along for the ride like always.

He looked towards Chuck and Blair, who were still dancing. And for them, that dance would never end. And he would always be on the sidelines, watching, just out of the spotlight.

Meanwhile, the aforementioned dancing couple was tiring of dancing.

Blair gently leaned her head against Chuck's shoulder. "Do you think anyone would notice if the Guests of Honor slipped away," her voice, suddenly lower and mischievous.

Chuck knew exactly what Blair was thinking, he'd been thinking the same thing. "We could slip away from this intimate gathering that I took months to plans? And do what exactly, Blair?" he said even as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips.

"I'm sure we could think of something, Bass," she said with a smirk. "What you didn't get us a room?"

He smirked. "I got us the Honeymoon Suite, in case we wanted to celebrate."

"We do," Blair said with finality. "Let's get out of here."

Chuck gave her a knowing smirk. "After you, _**Waldorf**_." The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine, and subtly reminded her that it wouldn't be her name for long.

She gave him a bright grin as they smoothly maneuvered their way out the door and into the elevator.

"I wonder how long it will take them to notice that we're gone," Blair said as she Chuck's strong hands wrap around her waist and pull her flush against him.

Chuck shrugged as he kissed the shell of her ear. "I couldn't care less," he whispered huskily and Blair felt herself growing very, very warm. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him full throttle. Their lips melded into each other as Chuck's tongue slipped inside her mouth, pushing her against the elevator wall.

Her strapless dress left all of her neck and collarbone exposed and Chuck wasted no time kissing down her neck, nipping the side of her neck with his teeth, groping her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

"Chuck," she moaned as she felt his arousal pressing against her thigh. "We should slow down. I'm not ruining this dress."

He slowly pulled away from her, a mock-pout crossing his features. "Fine," he said before kissing her forehead.

But slowing down didn't mean not ceasing all contact. They were both way too worked up for that. Chuck's hand kept a firm grip on the small of her back, as he fought the urge to take her right then and there. It wouldn't have been their first time in an elevator.

When the doors finally opened to reveal the Honeymoon Suite, Chuck pulled Blair is his arms again as they stepped out. Chuck didn't waste any time, he swiftly led Blair into the bedroom.

Standing in the middle of the room, he leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away. She nodded to the bathroom in the corner. "I'll be right back," she said before briefly kissing his lips and scurrying away.

He sighed slightly, but went about removing his tuxedo jacket and bowtie. He removed and placed his monogrammed cufflinks on the bedside table.

He was about to unbutton his dress shirt when Blair stepped out of the bathroom, in nothing but a white strapless corset, matching silk thong and white thigh stockings. And she still had her heels on. She'd let her hair down out of the intricate bun and it was hanging loosely around her face.

Chuck leaned back on the bed, drinking in the sight of her with gleaming eyes.

"What do you think," she asked him as she approached him slowly, sultrily.

Chuck smirked a very Chuck-like smirk. "Get over here and I'll show you better than I can tell you."

She approached he bed, hovering over him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer towards him. Her hands reached up to cup his face. "I love you," she whispered gently.

The stared into each other eyes, the weight of the night finally encompassing them. Chuck could feel the coolness of the ring against his face, a reminder that she'd said yes, that this was forever.

He reached for one of her hands and planted a gentle kiss on the inside of her palm. "I love you, too."

She smiles down at him, but not broaching the small distance between them, letting him know that the next move is his, like she was.

He kissed her gently, hands running along her thighs. He nibbled slightly on her lower lip and their kiss grew more and more heated. Chuck pulled himself up from the bed, planting soft, feathery kisses on her exposed neck and bare shoulder blades.

His deft fingers expertly untied the silk stays of her corset in seconds, exposing her bare front to him and then he pulled the garment away from her, baring her back to the air of the room.

He ran his hands along her arms. From the tight control of his breathing, Blair could tell he was fighting for control of himself. And he was. He wanted to take his time, he didn't want this to be over too soon. He wanted to savor her for every second he could.

He nipped lightly at her shoulder, while of his hands reached up to cup her breast, squeezing and twisting the nipple, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb, making her moan and sending jolts directly to her moistening center.

Her hands explored his toned shoulders, as he reached his head down to capture one of her breasts in his mouth, her grip tightening on his shoulders as he sucked on the tender flesh. Blair's head fell back as Chuck's all too talented mouth worked her up to a fever pitch. She felt her sex clench and jerk in response to his ministrations.

"Chuck," his name a breathy moan on her lips, "God, yes, don't stop."

He smiled around her breast at her moans of appreciation. His hand left her nipple which caused her to whine, but that quickly died when his had reached to cup her lace-covered sex. He could feel how wet she was and it only made him even harder.

He thumbed the pearl of her clit, sending sparks of pleasure up her spine, making her breath hitch. She fisted his hair, managing to drive her breast further into his mouth.

His hand delved deeper into her soaking folds, her hips jerking toward his hand, her mouth falling open. And in a flash he pulled away. Blair moaned in protest at the shocking loss of contact. But in the next moment, he was picking her up, cradling her like a precious gemstone, and placing her gently on the bed.

She sank into the many, many pillows as Chuck rid himself of the rest of his clothing.

He settled onto the bed, near the edge, his hands lightly brushing up her legs. In short, he was much too far away for Blair's very particular taste. His hands worked their way up her legs to her thighs. Their eyes locked as he slowly, almost delicately pulled off her soaked thong.

He threw it to parts unknown as his fingers lightly, teasingly played over her folds, a slight flick to her clit, the softest delve into her entrance, making her ache for more, deeper friction. Her hips bucked, and she groaned, her arousal getting the better of her.

He removed his fingers and proceeded to lick each one slowly, like it was his favorite lollipop. Blair whimpered slightly, her body was begging for him. And the smirk on his face told her that he knew it. She wanted to roll her eyes.

But before she had the chance, Chuck's head was between her legs and his tongue was parting through her velvet folds, making her thighs clench around his neck.

She was pretty sure that only dogs could hear the high-pitch moan that fell off her lips. His teeth scraped her clit and his tongue delved deeper and deeper sending waves and waves of pleasure all through her, up her spine. The pressure was building, she could feel it. Her head thrashed around and her hands grasped the sheets. The sensory overload was starting and all she could do was pant as his tongue rolled the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth.

But then he pulled away, lifted his head up and she moaned in absolute agony. But then he was crouching over her. His lips, glistening with her juices, pressing down on hers in a deep, greedy kiss. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she felt the tip of his cock, pressing at her entrance, ready to claim its prize.

She gasped the way she always did when he entered her, his thick, long shaft pushing into her slick, resistant channel with unrelenting pressure. He let out a throaty groan as she clenched and pulsed around him.

He pulled back almost entirely just to delve back in slowly, deeply, savoring each electric sensation of the friction between their bodies. He wanted to worship her, he didn't want to leave a spot untouched, unclaimed.

Her moans and wails became louder and longer with every hard thrust, each one deeper than the last. He felt like he was on fire, unable to get enough of her. He drove into her, harder and faster, pushing them both closer and closer over the edge.

Her senses were reeling. Her world was simply him, his pounding shaft and the ball of energy growing inside of her in response.

He drew back and slammed into her again, a moment of perfect calm settling over her for a split second before the ball exploded and she screamed his name. The euphoric release of energy shrouded her into but an intense, heady haze of pleasure.

She clenched tighter around him, pulsing and contracting around his unrelenting cock which was still slamming into her again, reviving her orgasm, this one slow and long and drenching every inch of her body in nothing but bliss. She heard him grunt and with the slightest kiss to her lips, she felt him expand inside of her, hot spurts of his essence filling her, like water to calm the flame inside of her.

She let out a long exhale as they collapsed on the bed, Chuck pulling out of her, rolling over to his side of the bed, pulling her close. He kissed the nape of her neck through her hair.

"I think we're going to hell for that," she said in a breathy whisper. "That had to be a sin."

She could feel the smirk on his face as he kissed her neck. "We could do worse, Blair."

And they most certainly did.

**~XOXO~**

* * *

"_Never trust anyone who wants what you've got."-Eubie Blake._

The next morning, across the bridge, Dan Humphrey, sat in the dim cubicle of the small Brooklyn paper that he worked in, _DUMBO Dish_. He'd been working there since he dropping out of Dartmouth University his sophomore year. There had simply been too many preppies, getting away with too much shit for his taste.

He'd gotten more than his fair share of that in high school. A graduate of St. Jude's, he knew all too well just how much the guiltless rich partied hard and didn't care. He actually thought it would be different at Dartmouth, but that he blamed on temporary insanity. After all, the colleges in the Ivies had all been built by the ancestors of his former classmates.

So he'd dropped out, headed home to Brooklyn and got a job. _Dish _had been impressed with his private school pedigree, and acceptance into an Ivy League school. They'd hired him on the spot.

Two years later, he'd worked his way up slightly, getting heavier assignments, well as heavy as the assignments got around there. His heaviest had been a not too riveting piece on late garbage pickup. _Dish _was the main commentator on the Brooklyn social scene, covered shows at the Bowery, and wrote exposés on the WASPs uptown, which could never be credited and never phased the over-privileged, spoiled rotten gentry one bit.

Dan preferred not to think about it, but some days, the old aristocratic ways of Upper East Side society crept into his world. He'd picked up a copy of the _Times_ on his way end. Flipping through the pages, he'd stopped on faces he knew all too well:

_**American Royalty Engaged! Bass to Wed Waldorf!**_

_Uptown is buzzing at the announcement that two of Manhattan's royal families are about to unite. Charles Bass, the only son of billionaire real estate mogul Bart Bass, has popped the question to longtime girlfriend, socialite Blair Waldorf, daughter of fashion designer extraordinaire Eleanor Waldorf and society staple Harold Astor Waldorf . He asked her in an intimate party at the Plaza's stunning Terrace Room, surrounded by their families and closest friends. She, of course, said yes. _

_It's bound to be the wedding of the century. Eleanor Waldorf, and Chuck's step mother Lily van der Woodsen-Bass will make sure of it. The ring is said to be a Harry Winston stunner…._

Dan dropped the paper on his desk and rolled his eyes. Bass and Waldorf? It totally figured. He'd often wondered how they fit so much ego into one relationship. But maybe that was why it worked. He hadn't seen either of them since the day after high school graduation.

He'd spent his entire St. Jude existence watching them and watching Nate Archibald and Serena van der Woodsen. After all, the four of them had stuck together through everything, covered for each other, schemed for each other, lied for each other, and played many, many games. Cross them at your own peril.

Blair had ruled over the social scene of Constance-St. Jude with an iron first. He couldn't count the times she'd threatened to destroy him if he ever crossed her.

They did whatever they wanted. Stepped on whoever they wanted. Got away with whatever they wanted. Because of course, they could. Their families could take care of them, as Chuck Bass had so condescendingly explained on one of the few times their paths crossed.

And seeing their faces, glossy and brilliant splashed across the _Times_ only brought back all the memories. He watched as they planned their gaudy parties, he watched as they rode around in their gaudy limos, as if they didn't have a care in the world. As if they had nothing to worry about.

He watched them with equal parts jealousy and judgment and _**they**_ never spared _**him**_a second glance. Except for that one time.

He recalled, with more disdain than was healthy, once he ended up caught in the middle of the Core Four of Constance-St. Jude.

It had been his junior year, and he was looking for something inspirational to nail his essay for Dartmouth. But he didn't think the life and times of a Brooklyn loner were exactly going to _**wow**_ the Dartmouth writing team.

And the buzz around the courtyard had been that the Golden Couple, Nate & Serena had taken a sharp turn towards Splitsville. The whole school had been shocked and appalled. Nate and Serena were like their school's version of Brangelina.

Blair Waldorf had shrugged it off, calling the whole thing "a brief phase". It wasn't the first time and N&S had called it quits, only to reunite two hours later. But, for reasons Dan didn't understand, they didn't automatically get back together.

But the separation had dragged on for nearly two weeks, and then annual Fire and Ice Ball was coming up. So in an attempt to make Nate jealous, Serena had asked Dan to be her date.

He wished he'd said no. But no guy in their right mind turns down a date with Serena van der Woodsen. So he'd gone. And to say it ended badly was a gross understatement. Nate had punched him, Blair had hurled more insults at him in thirty seconds than anyone had done in his entire life, and Chuck had paid security to have him removed. And Serena and Nate got back together.

And now, five and a half years later, the four of them were apparently still going strong. He could only imagine what the wedding would look like. It would probably be in some grandiose French palace or on a private island. He was pretty sure the Basses owned a private island, if not a private country.

But he could no longer ponder on the past happenings of his aristocratic high school. He was just happy to be out of there. And his boss wanted him.

Nick Blaine, editor-in-chief, of _DUMBO Dish_, too had seen the _Times_ and it had given him an idea. He too harbored resentment to the monarchy of the Upper East Side. Apparently, he'd once dated an It Girl. It hadn't ended well. Somehow, he wanted everyone to see the world for what it really was. And he thought he found his chance.

Dan knocked on his office door, expecting to get another piece about trash disposal. "Sit down, Humphrey," Nick said as he straightened his Clark Kent glasses. Dan did as he was told. "You seen the Society page today?"

Dan replied in the affirmative.

"Well, I want you to work an angle on this."

"What the hell does the _Dish _care about some uptown wedding?"

"Oh, it's not the wedding I want to cover. I'll leave that to _Manhattan Monarchy_. But with this wedding coming up, the Basses are bound to be in the news for weeks. People will eat up anything on them. I want the truth to come out."

Dan's eyebrows rose. "Truth? What truth?"

"No one, and I mean absolutely no one, gets to where Bart Bass is and keeps themselves squeaky clean. Something I learned in my time across the bridge: they don't know where their money comes from and they don't want to. It most likely comes from the most unsavory of places. And considering Bart Bass was just valued at 11.5 billion dollars, I'd wager there were a lot of unsavory places."

Dan ceded the point. "Okay, but I still don't get where I come in."

"You went to school with them, right? Bass, his stepsister, his hot little fiancée and his best friend?"

"Yeah, I did. But we weren't exactly in the same circle. I wasn't in any circle. I was Invisible Boy. I don't think any of them knew my first name. They probably just knew me as Lonely Boy."

"Come again?"

"My Gossip Girl moniker," he explained, somewhat begrudgingly. "But she stopped blasting about me the day after graduation."

"Either way, some connection is better than none. And right now, I need you to reconnect with them. Get close, get in, do whatever you have to. But I want an exposé on Bart Bass. In fact, I want an exposé on all of them! I want that whole side town knocked off their goddamn high horse. And if I could start with Big Bad Bart, the rest of them would fall like dominoes."

Dan was a little taken aback, but that didn't mean he wasn't game. Still, it was a bit of a risk. "Nick, getting in with these people is harder than getting an audience with the Queen of England. I'm not their type. And besides, it's drama I could live without. Nick, these aren't the kind of people we need as enemies. I go in, start snooping around and then you print an exposé…it'll be off with my head. I know these people. They _**love **_to destroy people."

"Look I'm not gonna print something without proof. If Bart's clean, he's got nothing to worry about. If he's not, well that's on him, isn't it?"

Dan couldn't or wouldn't argue with that logic. And in the back of his mind, the chance to actually take down the people who had always been on top thrilled him. Why should they be immune from justice just because they were born into privilege?

"I'm in."

~**XOXO**~

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the Honeymoon Suite of the Plaza, announcing the start of another busy morning in Manhattan. However the two occupants of the aforementioned suite were far from ready to leave. Night had flown too quickly for their tastes.

Blair opened her eyes into Chuck's smiling ones. For a second, she couldn't remember why she was so happy, and then the memory of the night before came flooding back. Her smile got wider as she did.

She was engaged. They were engaged. It was all too perfect to even believe. "Hi," she whispered as they laid there, face to face not wanting to move, not wanting to breathe for fear of ruining the perfect state of bliss.

"Hi," he said back with a smile. Their faces were so close that Chuck could feel the warmth of her breath when she exhaled contentedly. He pulled her to him, head just below his chin, skin brushing against skin, his hand lovingly stroking her ear.

"I could stay like this forever," she said, delighted at the friction caused between her bare nipples brushing against his coarse chest chair. "Do we have to leave?"

His eyes smiled down at her. "Well, we have the room for three nights, in case we want it."

"Wow, you really thought you were getting me out of my clothes, didn't you?" she teased him.

He broke into a wicked, rakish grin. "Was I wrong? I mean, are we not in bed, sans clothing, and was it not a mere three hours ago you were purring in my ear, begging me not to stop? Screaming my name, and spewing expletives in three languages?"

A slight blushed colored her cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself, Bass. It was only two," she said before gently kissing his lips. She sighed delightedly as she rested her chin on his chest.

"I can't believe I didn't figure it out," she said, bemused with herself. "All those phone calls, you coming back to the City early…you've been planning this, the whole time?"

"Well, not the _**whole **_time. But yeah, I started right after graduation. I wanted everything to be perfect."

"It was. It _**is**_." She stroked his cheek with her thumb. They kissed again, longer and deeper as he rolls them over, lips never breaking.

He broke the kiss and his lips worked their way down her body as he settled between her legs, his erection pressing lightly against her rapidly dampening folds. Blair had a fleeting wonder of where he got all the energy, but that quickly disappeared when he took one of her breasts in his mouth, teeth grazing her nipple and sending electric shocks through her turgid peaks straight to her core.

Her head fell back against the pillow, and her back arched, bringing him in deeper and she moaned in agony when he pulled back slightly, just keeping the tip of his cock inside of her.

"Chuck," she wailed. "Please." Her voice was desperate, filled with the want and the desire that only he could spark in her. And he knew it.

"Please what?" he asked and their eyes met. Hers filled with desire, his filled with a smirk. God, if she was capable of hating him, she would've at that moment. He loved doing this, making her beg, reminding her that he was well aware of what he did to her. But her mind was too filled with lust and deprived of pleasure to care.

"Fuck me," she whispered. "Please."

He leaned down to kiss her lips. "As my lady wishes," he said before swiftly burying himself to the hilt.

Her mouth fell open in a loud gasp at the addictive feel of him entering her, possessing her. Her legs locked around his waist, bringing him in deeper as he relentlessly drove into her again and again.

She clutched to him, fingernails dragging down his back, and he fought to maintain control over himself, she was so deliciously tight, so dizzyingly wet and the way she moaned his name was enough to make him lose it.

In one moment, the energy was building inside her, the next it was bursting through her, making her cry out and grip him tighter as she rode out the gigantic wave of pleasure.

She tightened around him even more, as he started to swell and spasm inside her, until he released, causing another less intense orgasm until, they both collapsed, barely conscious, but beyond thrilled.

When they arose from _la petit mort_, they found themselves deliciously tangled with one another, side by side, Chuck gently rubbing circles on Blair's back.

"Don't you ever get enough of me?" she asked, almost serious.

"Enough of you? Never."

He was about to kiss her again, when their cell phones rang. Both of them.

They groaned simultaneously, realizing that reality was calling them. And that they couldn't stay in their sex-crazed love bubble forever.

Blair reached for hers first, her face frowning for the first time. "It's my mother."

"It's always your mother," Chuck lamented. "Eleanor Waldorf, the Eternal Cockblock."

"Hush! That's my mother you're talking about. She'll be yours too." Blair hopped out of bed, flashing Chuck a very nice view of her bare backside before wrapping herself up in a sheet. "Hello? Hi, Mother." Blair sauntered off into the bathroom to give her mother her complete attention.

Chuck's phone rang again and he sighed as he reached for it. It was Bart. "Hello?"

"Son, I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, Father, you didn't. How can I help?"

"Nothing too serious, I was just hoping you could join Jack and I for a late lunch at the club today?"

Chuck knew his father well enough to know that this wasn't a mere request.

"Of course, Dad. What time?"

"Say around 4:00. See you then."

Chuck grabbed his platinum, custom-made Piaget watch from the bedside table. It was 11:16. He sighed. He had wanted to spend all day with Blair, possibly never getting dressed. But alas, it seemed it was not to be.

Blair came out of the bathroom, a small frown tugging at her ruby red lips. "What is it?" he asked.

"My mother wants me to meet her at the atelier, something about the fall line having a catastrophe. Doesn't she understand I just got engaged? That there are things I would rather be doing than watching her yell at incompetent interns and scheming assistants with agendas?"

"I'm sure Eleanor understands all of that. But you're her heir apparent which means you must be present for all catastrophes, part of your training."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Well, the good news is she doesn't want me there until three. She has a meeting with Saks."

"Yeah, well I've got lunch with Bart at four. Something's going on with Bass Industries."

"Something's always going on at Bass Industries," Blair reminded as she climbed back into bed, kissing his cheek and sliding under him, the sheet a buffer between them. "But let's not talk about that now. Let's just order breakfast."

Chuck thought for a moment. "Does that mean we have to get dressed?" he asked in a overly alarmed tone. "'Cause I'm not sure how I feel about that idea. You, fully clothed? I get shudders just thinking about it."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. This is what true happiness was. She didn't want to ever leave. "Bass," she said. "I have to eat if I'm going to keep my strength up. And something tells me I'm going to need it. And the sooner we get dressed, the sooner we can get undressed." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him for a long moment. "You order breakfast. I'll grab a shower."

Chuck smirked. "Can I join you?"

"We'll never get dressed if you do."

He pouted but he nodded as he rolled off of her. Then a thought struck her. "I totally forgot. I didn't bring a change of clothes with me. I can't wear my dress out of here."

He smiled. "Don't worry. I had Dorota send over some of your things yesterday. They're in the closet."

"You just think of everything, don't you?"

"I do when it comes to you."

Blair reluctantly pulled herself out bed. She then realized that she had a wedding to plan, that she and Chuck were actually getting married. That all those dreams that she'd had were about to become reality; that soon, she would be Blair Bass. Somehow, she just couldn't stop smiling.

There weren't words for this kind of happiness, for this feeling of utter joy and completion. She wanted to dance around, sing songs and turn cartwheels all at the same time. And those were things that Blair Waldorf did not do. But Blair Waldorf was on such a high, she was certain it would take a wrecking ball to knock her down.

She tied a robe around herself and looked back at Chuck, who had just gotten off the phone with room service. She sauntered over to his side of the bed and kissed him, full throttle, intense and passionate.

When they pulled apart, he blinked. "What was that for?"

"Because I love you. And I couldn't be happier right now."

~**XOXO~**

* * *

Serena van der Woodsen stepped out of Dean & Deluca clutching a nonfat Americano. Today was not one of her better days. She'd drank too much at the party, went one too many rounds with Nate the night before, and had spilled a bottle of Chanel No. 19 over her True Religion jeans that morning.

Needless to say, she still looked damn good. That was the thing about Serena. To not look good, she had to really, really be messed up. There was just something about that golden hair that sparkled even if she hadn't washed it in two weeks. There was something about those blue eyes that gleamed like the sky at noon, even if she'd just downed four gin and tonics.

And there was just something about her that made everything she wore look effortless even if she had just picked it up off the floor and thrown it on.

At least, that was what Dan Humphrey was thinking when he spotted her. It wasn't that hard to do, not with Gossip Girl pinging their locations every twenty seconds. Serena was still Serena—beautiful, untamed and effervescent. He just hoped she hadn't grown out of her naïve, trusting, bordering on foolish outlook. He was going to need that.

Serena had loved going to Brown. It was fun being there, and being with Nate. She'd majored in English, while Nate had majored in Political Science. It had been fun. They'd partied and she'd managed not to get out of control, even without Blair there to keep her on track. After all, she had Natie. The bad girl had finally been somewhat tamed.

Still, when she got home, she wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do. The women in her family didn't work—they ruled.

They ruled over their families with iron fists, keeping everything together. Keeping scandals hushed-up, keeping anyone with any amount of damaging knowledge paid off, keeping up their quintessential appearances so to the world, everything would appear practically perfect in almost every way.

But Serena didn't have a family to take care of—not yet. Nate hadn't proposed. Everyone was sure that he would, though, eventually. Still, Nate had a full load. His parents had arranged an internship at the Mayor's office for him. Serena sighed, someday, he'd probably be Mayor.

Politics suited Nate. He was, after all, a Vanderbilt. But her? Serena wasn't exactly sure what she was suited for. But Bart had told her he had a proposition for her. He wanted to talk to her about it over drinks.

That's where she was headed, coffee in hand, down to The Carlyle to talk to her stepfather.

Her cell phone started ringing and she couldn't remember if it was in the back pocket of her perfume-scented jeans or somewhere down in the bottomless pit that was her green Alice + Olivia tote.

She fumbled around in her purse as she walked through Central Park, not realizing, she was making a beeline for an all too unsuspecting Dan Humphrey.

And slosh went the Americano all over the tie Dan had bought from Burlington.

"Oh, my God! I am so sorry. I am so sorry," Serena said frantically as she tried and failed to wipe the coffee off, she only succeeded in wiping it in.

"No, it's okay," Dan said with a smile. "I didn't really like that tie, anyway."

Serena finally looked up at him to laugh and that's when the flash of recognition crossed her face. "Dan?"

Dan thought for a split second to feign not recognizing her, but that was too far fetched. _**No one **_forgot Serena van der Woodsen.

"Serena, Serena van der Woodsen?" He asked.

"Yeah," Serena said with her still dazzling smile. She pulled him into a quick, friendly hug. "Oh wow, it's so good to see you. How have you been?"

He smiled, mainly to himself, Serena was still Serena. And that was a good thing.

"I've been good. How have you been? Oh, who am I kidding? You're Serena van der Woodsen, you've been amazing."

Serena smiled. She was genuinely happy to see him. Then again, Serena was genuinely happy to see almost everyone. It helped when almost everyone was in love with you. "Well, I don't know about amazing. But I've been doing all right. What about you? You just get back from Dartmouth?"

Dan was surprised that she remembered. "Yeah, I did, about two years ago. I dropped out, sophomore year. Been working at a paper ever since."

Serena shrugged. "Well, hey at least your writing," she said in her bubbly, perky way.

"Yeah, my boss was very impressed with my narratives on disastrous non-dates, and getting kicked out of dances."

The smile on Serena's face faded a little bit. "Did I never apologize for that? Because if I didn't, I'm sorry. Dan, I really didn't mean to drag you in the middle of that." One of Dan's eyebrows rose at that. "Okay, maybe I did," Serena admitted. "Nate and I were in a bad place and we'd been fighting and…still, it was wrong. And you had nothing to do with it. So here's my very belated apology."

Dan smiled. "It's okay. That's what I get for…how did Blair say it, 'making a futile, doomed attempt at climbing up from my less than noteworthy station'."

Serena rolled her eyes. "That's Blair for you."

"How's she doing? I think I read something about her and Chuck getting hitched?"

"Yeah," Serena beamed. "He popped the question just last night. They're both so happy. In their own way, they're absolutely perfect for each other."

"It's not surprising; I mean who could else put up with either one of them?"

"Excellent point," Serena said with a laugh. "Hey, I gotta be somewhere. But hey, I wanna make up for the Fire & Ice Ball. My parents are hosting an End of Summer Party at the Hudson Hotel Saturday after next. You should come."

Dan shook his head. "Thanks, but I don't know. I kind of got my fill of parties back at St. Jude."

"I know, I know, and that's totally my fault. Which is why I'm insisting on you coming. I'm not taking no for an answer, Humphrey. So please, please? You'll break my heart if you don't."

Dan relented. "All right. When you put it like that, how can I say no?" Not that he was really going to say no anyway.

"Great! I'll have you put on the guest list. It was so great seeing you. And definitely come."

"You sure Nate won't mind?" Dan asked.

Serena shrugged. "He'll be stoned anyway. And I'll save you a dance. Hey, bring a date if you want. Everyone would love to see you."

Dan wanted to scoff, but he refrained. Everyone wouldn't love to see him. They probably hadn't thought about him since the night of the Fire & Ice Ball. Blair and Chuck would reprimand Serena for fraternizing across the bridge. Nate would probably roll his eyes and as Serena predicted, get stoned.

But, this was his way in. So he smiled, assured her that he would clear her schedule and let her go on her merry way.

_Phase one complete,_ he thought as he dialed the _Dish_ to give his boss a status report.

_**Spotted: S having a tête-à-tête with—could it be, the long lost Lonely Boy? I guess he simply couldn't get enough of the Park Avenue royals royally screwing him over. Gossip Girl can't wait to see where this is going. Something tells me it's going to be a bumpy ride. **_

Dan sighed as he looked down at the Gossip Girl Blast. When he graduated from St. Jude's, he thought he was done with the Upper East Side Aristocracy. And here he was again, trying to find a way to worm his way into their Tiffany Diamond studded world. Or was it Cartier?

Something told Dan that he shouldn't do this. The little voice inside of head said that there was no way this could end well. Dealing with the uptown had never ended well, not for him. He knew he should've walked away, told Blaine that the story wasn't worth it.

But he didn't walk away. And that would change everything.

~**XOXO~**

* * *

The Carlyle Hotel was beautiful. Serena knew that. Still, it never had been her scene. It wasn't STK, or 1Oak. Blair revered it a lot more than she did. But it was the perfect place to have a drink with her stepfather. She didn't know why they simply didn't have a drink at Gilt. But she wasn't going to argue.

Bart was sitting at the table that was always reserved for him. Basses never waited for tables, they didn't have to. Serena went there without wondering or even speaking to the host.

"Serena, dear," Bart said rising to briefly kiss her cheek. "What will you have, a Cosmo?"

"Yes, thank you." Serena sat down and Bart ordered her a drink. She felt a wave of nervousness surge through her. What was this about? Bart wasn't relaxed, then again, Bart was never relaxed. That stoic air cracked for no one, except maybe Lily.

She could tell that this was business. It was in the way he sipped his brandy, the way he eyed her with a searching curiosity. "Happy to be home?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said. "It feels good to be back in New York. I mean, I love Rhode Island, but it has nothing on the Upper East Side."

Bart nodded. "When I'm here, I never wish to leave. Then again, I feel the same about the French Riviera. Now, you're probably wondering why I asked you here."

Serena nodded in the affirmative.

"Well," Bart said slowly, "I've been wondering what exactly you plan to do now that Brown is over. Do you have anything in mind?"

Serena sighed. "Not really, Bart. I've been thinking about it for a while now. And I just don't know what I'm qualified for. I know I can teach Literature. But I think my mother would have a fit. No, my _**grandmother **_would have a fit."

"I can't imagine Celia being the slightest bit happy about that either. If she'd had things her way, you would've been Mrs. Nathaniel Archibald before you went to Brown."

Serena laughed. "Yeah, probably." She eyed Bart curiously. Her stepfather never called business meetings for just anything, certainly not with her.

"Serena, I have a proposal for you. Most people think that the world gets older. And it does. But in a real sense, the world gets younger. Well, the people in control of it do. Every twenty years or so power shifts. Children get older and they take over. Some are totally incompetent, but others are not. My point is some of these children find themselves in very important positions. Thing is, I haven't got the time, the patience or the inclination to deal with them. But they wish to have dealings with me."

Serena raised one eyebrow. "I'm not sure I'm following."

"It's really quite simple. I need you to deal with those children for me. How would you like to work for Bass Industries?"

Serena was genuinely surprised. "Me, at Bass? Doing what?"

"I need someone current and up to date, someone with the charm and grace to wine and dine and wrangle new clients. For instance, Clark Kelly, he's the new club wunderkind on the Lower East Side. He's opened three new clubs in the last four moths. He's only twenty-eight." Bart said the man's age with a hint of wonder. Then again, Bart had turned his first profit by the time he was twenty-two. "He needs to be convinced to put one of them in my hotel. And I'm afraid, I don't quite relate to him. All I can show is dollars and cents, which honestly, should be enough. But today, it's all about the vision. And companies that keep up with the times soon get muscled out. Well I didn't build this company us to watch some young hotshot tear it down. And I thought it would be perfect for you."

"Really?" Serena actually sounded skeptical. Yes, she'd gone to an Ivy League, but she was a legacy there. Her great-great-grandmother had been one of the first women ever admitted into Brown. She didn't have a head for business. The only thing she really knew she did well was party.

"It's perfect for you. I need to charm these people, make them see that Bass Industries isn't as stuffy and dry as everyone thinks. Now Chuck has done a great deal to loosen the top button with his burlesque clubs and speakeasies and such. But with new vipers popping up every moment, I need someone to keep track of it all. What's in and what's out, if you will. I need to keep an eye on the burgeoning talent. I'd like you to do that for me."

"So my job would be to drum up new clients?"

"Exactly. You could travel, and I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind. And you'd really be helping out the company. Now, I'm sure it's not every young socialite's dream—,"

"I'd love to," Serena cut in, a smile crossing her features. "It could be fun."

Bart smiled. "Great, I'll have some paperwork drawn up. Now, I'm sure you're late for something, and I've got to meet Chuck and Jack. So we'll finish this up over dessert tonight?"

Serena nodded. "Thank you, Bart. I won't let you down." Serena was eager, and bubbly and smiling. She was really looking forward to it, Bart could tell. And he was glad.

This really was a win-win situation. If he was going to be perfectly honest, he'd been a little worried with Serena returning to the city. The girl simply had a propensity for reckless behavior. Whether it was drugs or booze or tons and tons of wild parties. And all that was fine and good when she was a teenager, easy to look over and write off to the flight and fancy of youth.

But she wasn't a teenager anymore. And her messy scandals always had a way of getting out. And that wasn't good for business or for his family. Lily would always be in conniptions and conspiring with Celia on how to take care of the problem.

But if Bart could manage to keep Serena occupied and if that damn Archibald child ever found the time to marry her, things could be kept running smoothly.

Truthfully, Bart did need someone young and vibrant to search out clients of the young and vibrant set. But he could've just had Chuck handle that. His son was already established in the club world. But Chuck had the Empire and Blair, and soon he'd have all of Bass Industries, but not that soon.

And Serena was perfect for it. Full of life, charm and energy, the girl never had a problem attracting people to her. Everyone loved Serena. People had a hard time saying no to Serena. Which was a good thing for Bart. The girl could charm her way out of everything, and come out completely unscathed.

Bart almost wanted to toast himself. He'd managed to keep Serena in good spirits and happy (honestly, the girl simply couldn't live without a party to go to), a way to boost business and to keep his stepdaughter's name out of the tabloids. Life was good.

He figured the tabloids would have plenty to say about Chuck's engagement. As if he didn't have enough to deal with. A bug he thought he'd squashed long ago was returning to pester him.

Some people simply couldn't learn their lesson. No matter how many times you ran them over, they just got back up for more. One did have to admire their persistence, even it was foolish persistence. Still, Bart was going to let anyone threaten him or his company or his family. He'd worked too long and too hard to let anyone bring any kind of harm to the things he valued most.

Well, he would deal with this, decisively and definitively. No one put Bart Bass in a corner.

~**XOXO~**

* * *

Chuck arrived at the club, but Jack had beaten him there. They were in their private room, the one that had their name inscribed on the door and where the decanters were filled with 65 year old scotch.

"Is my father here yet?" Chuck asked his uncle.

Jack shook his head. "You know Bart, he loves an entrance."

Chuck nodded in agreement. "Do you know what's going on?"

"I do," Jack said shortly.

Chuck fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Are you going to tell me?"

Jack pretended to think for a long minute. "No, I don't think so," he said before sipping a glass of bourbon.

Chuck never wondered why Bart kept Jack on the other side of the world. He was much easier to deal with in Australia than he was in person. Jack Bass had never been the most endearing of people. Endearing wasn't a quality Basses cultivated.

"You're a real boon," Chuck said dryly as he went to pour himself a glass of scotch.

"I would think you'd be more chipper, after all, you just got _**betrothed**_," Jack made the word sound like a deadly illness.

"Well I was chipper…until I saw you."

Jack smiled, but there was very little warmth in the gesture. "I've missed your witty banter. There's just not enough sarcasm down under."

"I'm sure Australia is much dimmer without your presence," Chuck said, oozing sarcasm. He checked his watch. It was 4:15. That was odd. Bart wasn't late for business meetings.

Birthdays, recitals, and anniversaries? Yes. Business meetings? Never. Something was definitely up.

Chuck was just about to call his father, when Bart sauntered in. "Excuse my tardiness, Charles, Jack," he said with all the formality and stateliness of a Bass business meeting.

Chuck sighed to himself. Whatever it was, it probably meant a headache for him. He sipped his scotch. He had a feeling it wouldn't be his last of the evening.

Bart sat down at the corner table, the signal for Jack and Chuck to do the same.

"A report of an alarming nature has reached us," Bart said, nodding to Jack. "It could be particularly damaging to us, if…well…I suppose I best start form the beginning."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. What the hell was going on? Bart looked unsure of how to continue. So Jack intercepted.

"Nephew of mine, I'm sure you've heard that Thorpe Enterprises is opening a new office here in Manhattan."

Chuck's eyes widened. Actually, he hadn't heard. But he knew this wasn't good news. Thorpe Enterprises, the Capulet to Bass Industries' Montague, but without the star crossed love story.

Chuck hated Raina Thorpe, even if there had been a crazy, barely remembered weekend in Dubai when he was fifteen. He couldn't deny sleeping with the enemy was hot.

He looked at his father. "What do they want?"

Bart shrugged. "Simply put, they want to destroy us. Russell hates me. He's always hated me. I simply couldn't care less and that simply irks him beyond belief. Whatever the case, they're after us. And Russell…he knows…things."

That got Chuck's attention. "What kind of…_**things**_?"

Bart struggled for the words. "Things that could be damaging to Bass Industries," he said finally. "And to our family. But the cherry on top is who Russell has hired to run his New York office: Carter Baizen."

Chuck's jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Believe me, son, I wish I was."

Carter Baizen, Chuck's former partner in crime and now archenemy. Chuck hated Carter. No, Chuck loathed Carter. And the feeling was mutual. Carter was a spoiled, lying manipulative insect that had once tried to steal Serena _**and**_ Blair in one crazy weekend on Sea Island.

And Russell Thorpe had hired him. "Fuck," Chuck muttered softly, before downing the rest of his scotch.

"Our sentiments exactly," Jack said. "That little shit has more dirt on you than anyone. He knows about the—,"

"I know, Jack. You don't have to remind me. I'm well aware of everything Carter Baizen knows." And he was. Carter knew things about Chuck that Chuck wished he didn't know about himself. Cater knew things that Chuck was ashamed of.

"You see the danger this poses to business?" Bart asked his son.

"I do. And I'll handle it," Chuck said firmly.

"How?" Bart and Jack asked at the same time.

"I'll speak to Carter. He knows he doesn't want to go to war with me. He knows he'll lose."

"You're sure about that?" Jack asked. "Because he could do some serious damage."

"I know what he could do. I know him very well. And he's as hateful as he is unreliable. If Thorpe thinks he can control Carter, he's wrong. Carter is far too easily distracted."

"Be that as it may, Thorpe might be able to control Carter long enough to unleash whatever fresh hell he's planning," Jack said with a sigh.

"I'm not going to let Carter Baizen play me," Chuck said firmly. "Anything he can do, I can see it coming."

"Let's hope so," Bart said. "Because the last thing I need is bad PR. Charles, we're expanding. I've got lots of deals going through and some are shaky. You need to find out what Carter is planning."

"Considering what he has on Chuck, that's really not hard to figure out," Jack commented dryly.

"Thanks Jack," Chuck said with a sigh. "But Carter…if I go down, he does too. He can't make a move without implicating himself. And when most of it went down, we were minors."

"I don't think he's trying to get you locked up," Jack said slowly. "More like just trying to destroy your reputation, tarnish our family name, and send our stock plummeting."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "I feel so much better now. Look, Father, Jack, I'll take care of it. I know how to deal with Carter Baizen."

Bart looked his son square in the face. "I certainly hope so."

_**Spotted: Chuck Bass having a meeting with his father and uncle. Sounds like all might not be well in the house of van der Bass. I'm sure it'll come out soon. And if it doesn't, I'll have to dig it up myself**_.

~**XOXO**~

Nate got to STK early. But Chuck was already there, at the bar. And Nate could immediately tell something was up. He sat down at the stool next to him.

"Nathaniel," Chuck said in acknowledgement of his friend's presence.

"Chuck," Nate said right before he ordered a glass of whiskey. "You wanna tell me about it?" he asked after a long moment.

Chuck shook his head. "No, not really. But it wouldn't change anything. Carter's in town."

"He is?"

Chuck shrugged. "Either he is, or he will be. He's working for Thorpe."

Nate's blue eyes clouded. "That's…not good."

"Excellent deductive reasoning, Nathaniel," Chuck downed a shot of scotch and picked up another. "The girls here yet?"

"No, but they will be soon. Serena just texted me. And you might wanna pull yourself together. If Blair sees you like this…." Nate's voice trailed off. But he didn't have to finish that sentence. Chuck knew what he meant.

Chuck sat up straighter, perfected the unruffled Bass persona and sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not scared of Carter Baizen."

"Yeah, but, man, all that stuff that went down….does Blair even know?"

Chuck shook his head. "It never came up."

"It never came up?" Nate repeated, incredulous. "You know that Blair can display irrational homicidal tendencies at times, right?"

Chuck downed another shot. "Yes, Nathaniel, I'm well aware. She is my girlfriend."

"She's your fiancée, and there's a huge difference. Especially to Blair."

Chuck didn't answer, a sign that he knew Nate was right. Still, the situation could be detained. Carter was an insect—annoying, but not hard to squash, especially with Chuck's custom made Valentino loafers.

Nate shook his head slightly at his friend. Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck, there was something about their relationship he never would fully understand. Like how Blair would never get upset if she found out Chuck was investigating her. She'd find it endearing and a testament to how well he knew her if he thought she was up to something.

And Chuck, he'd never get mad at Blair for being her scheming, manipulative, power-obsessed, social ruining self. It was wrong to want her to be anything less than she was.

With all that drama between them, sometimes Nate didn't know how they managed to be so in love. But they did.

He was about to ask Chuck more about the Baizen situation, but the arrival of Blair and Serena put that to an end.

They all sat down at their usual table, and the bartender brought them their usual drinks: Scotch for Chuck, gin martini for Blair, straight vodka for Nate and Belvedere martini for Serena.

"So," Chuck said turning to Blair. "How was the atelier?"

Blair rolled her eyes. "It's a catastrophe. Half of the models are fainting, the rest are feuding. Laurel just found out that her boyfriend is cheating, so she's even more insufferable than usual. And to top it all off, Mother and Daddy are fighting. I swear they fought less when they _**weren't**_ divorced."

"Fighting about what?" Serena asked. The Waldorf's divorce had been amicable, but Blair still held her breath every time her parents were in the same room.

"Me," Blair huffed. "They're fighting over who gets to pay for the wedding. Daddy says since he's my father, that it's his right and Mother says that's ridiculous. And I just…" Blair's voice trailed off with a sigh. She took a sip of her drink. "They drive me crazy."

Chuck wrapped his arm around Blair's shoulder. "It's okay. Your parents just want the best for you."

"I know. But it's not my family has ever been the poster family for domestic bliss and tranquility."

Chuck planted a kiss on the side of her forehead. "Tranquility and bliss are not currencies traded on the Upper East Side."

She smiled, despite her frustration. Somehow, nothing seemed quite so bad if he was with her. The moment passed and the mood probably would've gotten lighter and the stresses of the day probably would've worn off. If their phones hadn't buzzed, pinged and whistled simultaneously.

They sighed, knowing it was most likely a Gossip Girl Blast. And it was:

_**Spotted: At Grand Central, bags in hands, Georgina Sparks back from the dead, or at from Pennsylvania. But wait a second? Didn't our very own Queen B banish the evil G? Sounds like a catfight in the making. And you know who'll be watching. XOXO.-Gossip Girl.**_

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**Let me know what you think. Please. I'm absolutely addicted to reviews. And to anyone who shows any interest in this story, I love you for it. XOXO.**


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